


A Balcony in Paris

by fadedskylines



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Model AU, Slow Burn, han and luke are an old married couple, in which hux is stuck pretty much babysitting kylo, skysolo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedskylines/pseuds/fadedskylines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attempt at throwing the perfect birthday party for the Solo Modelling Company's pride and joy, Kylo Ren, results in his father's secretary becoming his new personal assistant.<br/>The only problem is that Kylo Ren doesn't need someone to look after him-and that the person in question is an unbearable man named Hux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here goes my first Star Wars fic! This is all loosely based off of Miraculous Ladybug and the Americans who romanticize Paris (myself included). Thanks for reading!  
> (And I know I'm supposed to be working on Three Years but it's #HardOutHereForAPimp and I'm out here stanning for TFA. And the idea that skysolo is a cute old married couple.)

For such a seemingly esteemed place in a beautiful mansion, Han's library is falling apart at the seams. The red wallpaper is teeming with cobwebs and abandoned portraits of famous authors, and each bookshelf is shrouded with dust. Sometimes, Luke comes by and clicks his tongue, shaking his head in that way he always does, and Hux can see how Han can fall in love with him over and over again.

Today, Luke swipes his index finger past _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ , his gold ring tainting with dustbunnies. He's just returned from Berlin to negotiate a budget for his next dress and to interview a prospective partner. His next stop is Melbourne for a catwalk he invited himself to, and after that, only God knows.

But for now, the library will do.

"Is something out of place, Mr. Skywalker?" Hux asks tentatively. He hovers near the large wooden double doors that lead into the old library, wondering why Luke had called him down if only to inspect the state of the room.

Luke laughs. "The dust, the spiderwebs. And Han's never read a Mark Twain book to save his life."

Hux forces back the urge to smile. Professionalism and business are his number one priorities, although he finds himself fascinated with Luke and Han's everlasting marriage far too often to admit it.

"But no," Luke wipes his finger on his Levi jeans-he always had a peculiar love for cheap jeans-slowly, "Nothing's out of place here. Han's rarely in here, so I don't expect the maids to clean up."

"That's much too generous of you," Hux says, pulling out a notepad from his pocket. "The maids are scheduled to clean the second story at four in the afternoon. I'll remind them that every room counts, Mr. Skywalker."

"Don't go out of your way, Hux," Luke says with a slight wave of his hand. "I'm not here to talk about the maids."

Hux stills, his notebook still in his gloved hands.

"I have a special request for you," Luke begins. "My son, Ben, seems far too lonely these days. His twentieth birthday is coming up in about a month and, I know he's busy with modelling and his classes, but I'd like to throw a big party for him. Or, it doesn't even have to be big, just-whatever he wants."

Hux jots down a note with the ballpoint pen he keeps in his shirt pocket.

"And here's where you come into play," Luke says. "I'd like for you to organize the party. See, I'm always travelling and designing, and Han is always conducting business. We don't often have the time to sit down and talk to Ben and find out what he wants. Really, Ben doesn't even like me too much."

Hux furrows his eyebrows. He's rarely encountered Ben, although he's never noticed any hostility towards Luke.

"So I hope you can see to it that Ben's party is set up and that you can find out his interests-enough to really _personalize_ the party," Luke says emphatically.

"Of course." Hux nods.

Luke then makes a confident stride towards the door and pats Hux with that same level of enthusiasm.

"I really can't thank you enough for all you do for this family and this company," Luke smiles appreciatively.

"I'm just carrying out my duties, Mr. Skywalker."

*

Kylo sits still on the floor of his balcony. Through the intricate workings of the black metal lining, he can see the Eiffel Tower lights in the distance, and all the business buildings below him. The streets have an orange glow at night, with dim lamplights scattered across the pavement. He figures the city is conserving much more energy now, and he applauds the French government in the back of his mind.

The sky is darker now that the streetlights have been dimmed. He can see clearer.

A hesitant knock comes on his door, pulling him away from the constellations. He turns around slowly, his black hair flipping in the soft winds.

"I'm fine, dad," he calls out. "I ate dinner with the agent earlier."

Kylo turns back around to look out his balcony. He hears the door open, and a soft voice surprises him.

"You haven't called me 'dad' in a while."

Kylo spins around to face Luke, who's now sporting track pants.

"That's because I thought you were Han," Kylo retorts, getting up on his feet.

"Let's not have this conversation," Luke says gently. "I'm flying out to Melbourne tomorrow night. I was thinking we could have breakfast tomorrow at the Rose Cafe before I leave. I like their coffee."

Kylo nods his head and sits down on his bed. Luke follows suit, although Kylo feels intruded upon.

"Is dad coming?" Kylo asks.

"Hopefully," Luke answers. "He might be holed up in his office still. How was dinner with the agent?"

"Awkward," Kylo laughs. "I didn't really say anything. He did most of the talking. He said he stopped by because dad told him we were having caviar, which was a bold faced lie because I don't even like caviar. We were having spaghetti."

"Your father's prone to lying," Luke smiles. "Although he usually tells white lies. Why'd he want the agent over?"

"He had news about a new talent he picked up," Kylo says. "A Guatemalan boy. He wants me to do a shoot with him for an advert."

"Your father doesn't usually like working with advertisers," Luke responds thoughtfully. "This must be a good gig."

Kylo shrugs.

Luke smiles and relaxes into the warm air with sleepiness. "I'll see you in the morning," he pauses, "son."

Kylo groans.

Luke walks over to the door, laughing. "I'm not your stepfather, boy. So don't treat me like one. I _am_ your father."

"Uncle," Kylo corrects him.

Luke halts, and Kylo can hear his gold ring clash against the brass doorknob. Luke opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it before swinging the door open.

"I'm sorry," Kylo says quickly, before Luke disappears into the house. "I didn't mean that."

Luke turns back around. "You did. And that's okay. Just caught me off guard, is all."

And with that, Luke closes the door. Kylo sinks into his bed and looks out towards the open balcony.

The sky seems darker now.

*

Hux types out a letter of congratulations to the new model in record time, all while verbalizing a whole new list of tasks to the Solo house maids over the phone.

"I want the library spotless," he adds as he hits the print button. "And don't forget to mop the kitchen. Make sure you do that after Mr. Kylo grabs his pre-modelling snack. And make sure you leave that out on the counter, too-the double chocolate chip cookies and hazelnut wafers."

He's searching his desk drawers for an envelope and a stamp when he hears a burst of confusion on the other line.

"What? Of course it's the double chocolate chip cookies and hazelnut wafers; look at your calendars," he finds his last envelope in his bottom drawer. He makes a note to have the butler buy more at two o' clock.

One of the new maids says something declaratively in the background.

Hux kicks his bottom drawer closed.

"What do you mean he cancelled his gig with the new talent?" Hux asks angrily, hanging up the phone.

He speed walks down the halls of offices, big, personalized nameplates flying past him on the cream walls. He stops at the large, green double door entrance to Han's office and knocks.

He hears Han bark an abrupt "come in" and storms inside.

"Sir, I've heard word from the maids that your son cancelled his advert shoot with Dameron," Hux starts.

Han is turned away from his powered down computer, fixed on the globe set on the side of his desk. He has a purple sharpie in his right hand, and he draws a tiny X on Australia.

"He moved it to tomorrow," Han says indifferently.

"He has class tomorrow," Hux quickly supplies. "His scheduling is irresponsible and-

Han caps the sharpie and looks Hux in the eye. "Well, I don't know, _I'm_ not his P.A."

"Mr. Solo, Ben has no P. A." Hux answers.

Han laughs, placing the sharpie back in his mug, which doubled as a pencil and pen holder. "Looks like you're your own answer."

Hux's eyes widen as he makes his immediate exit, searching through the big, customized, hanging nameplates for somebody with contact information.

"I need Ben Solo's number!" He barks down the halls, and most of the office workers halt their usually incessant typing at the sound of Hux's clammor.

When he hears no valid response, Hux starts up again.

"You'll all be fired if someone doesn't get me Ben Solo's number!"

*

Kylo's half-asleep on his king-sized bed when an unknown face barges in his room. His heavy eyelids swoop open and he catches a glimpse of a pale man with gelled ginger hair, slicked down all the way to the nape of his neck where his suit collar peaks. He's wearing thin framed glasses and has a clipboard in his gloved leather hands. For a second, Kylo's worried the man's some sort of assassin sent from a rival modelling company with the way he presents himself-strong, confident, and stoic, all at once.

Of course, Kylo's not the least bit intimidated. He's had his fair share of modelling enemies he's formed with his sharp tongue alone-and the help of his manager's blacklist.

However, Kylo _is_ slightly intimidated by the fact he's still groggy from sleep and is scantily clad in a wifebeater and red boxers.

After a few moments of silent confusion between the two of them, Kylo finally speaks.

"Are you here to kill me?" He asks indifferently, still loose and relaxed.

The man before him stutters and splutters before letting out a cathartic sigh.

"No," the man's voice begins to tighten with annoyance, "I'm here to ask you why you cancelled your gig with Dameron."

Kylo then sits up, crossing one leg over the other, and furrows his eyebrows. "Who are you? I have a manager and an agent, both of which are competent and can contact me if postponing my shoot is so disastrous."

"I'm Hux," the man introduces himself, albeit much too late. "I'm your father's secretary and P. A. I've never had a direct encounter with you, so I apologize for not explaining myself earlier, Ben."

Kylo flinches. "I'm sure my father's told you that I don't like to be called that."

"I don't see what's so wrong with Ben," Hux states plainly.

"I can understand that, coming from a man named Hux," Kylo vaguely gestures at him with his hand.

Hux tilts his head the smallest degree to the side, taken back by Kylo's bold words. He starts to wish he truly were an assassin.

"Hux is my last name. I don't go by my first name. I think it'd be unprofessional."

"Well, in that same way, I don't go by Ben," Kylo says. "I'm sure we can come to a mutual understanding on this. Can't we?"

Kylo looks at Hux with a sly smirk, as if he's finally trapped a fox and is starting on sharpening his knife.

In turn, Hux looks at Kylo like he's just lost his mind.

"Your shoot is now the day after tomorrow at eight in the morning," Hux then squares his jaw, choosing to be professional and be the bigger person. "And Luke called me earlier to tell you that you'll have _lunch_ at Rose's Cafe, and Han wanted to inform you that I'm in charge of regulating your day-to-day functions now."

"What?" Kylo cries out, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"Think of me as your P.A.," Hux suggests.

"I don't need a fucking babysitter!" Kylo declares.

"Well, from this temper tantrum you're throwing, I can see why Han is under the impression that you need one," Hux says simply, and Kylo swears he can see the tiniest smile on his face.

Kylo clenches his fists and grits his teeth together. "Get out of my room."

"As long as you get dressed, then. I'll drive you and your fathers to the Cafe," Hux says.

And with that, he disappears. Kylo can still feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, angry from Hux's instigative remarks. He doesn't need somebody to watch over him every day, or "regulate his day-to-day funtions;" he's turning twenty in two months and his parents still insist on treating him like a child.

Letting out a deep, frustrated sigh, Kylo looks over at his alarm clock.

It's almost eleven.

He then looks down at his boxers and the stain on his previously pure white tank and decides he should get out of bed. None of this, he thinks, is in accordance with Hux and his mundane regulations.

It's all him.

*

"I don't think I can handle working with your son," Hux admits quietly.

Luke has called him down to Han's abandoned library yet again, pacing back and forth between the biographies of multiple civil rights activists and the sets of thesauruses and dictionaries. He seems a little more anxious today, perhaps due to his dawning trip to Melbourne. He still hasn't decided what to wear to the runway, but Hux has a few ideas drawn up in his notepad.

In spite of the tension in the air around him, Luke laughs. "I understand. I know my son isn't exactly the most cooperative person."

Hux nods gratefully. "Thank you, sir; I'm truly relieved to hear that-"

"Ah," Luke interrupts, "I never said you were completely off the hook."

Hux bites the inside of his lip. It's a bad habit he'd started way back in middle school when the lunchladies told him he didn't have enough for lunch. Then, the flesh of his inner lip was the only thing his mouth could afford.

Now, however, it just warns his subconscious that things aren't going his way.

"I agree with Han. Kylo needs someone responsible to look after him," Luke explains.

Hux has an utmost level of respect for Luke, but even _he_ couldn't bear to listen to that without a rebuttal.

"Kylo thinks I'm acting as his babysitter," Hux states. "And he already doesn't seem to think too fondly of me. I'm sure the both of us will only be annoyed if I'm his P.A. I can get him a new P.A. by tomorrow; not many people would turn down the opportunity to work with such a prestigious company."

"I'm sure you could get him a new P.A. by tomorrow," Luke says. "That I don't question. But Han and I don't trust anyone else to get the job done. No one is as efficient or possessing of such a high work ethic as you, Hux. Plus, you're so close with the family-it seems only natural."

Hux lets the praise wash over him in an attempt to focus on the bright side of his situation as opposed to the dread of watching over someone as insolent as Kylo Ren.

"In fact, you're receiving quite the raise for this," Luke reminds him with a sympathetic smile. "And you don't have to work as Han's P.A. now. Just secretarial duties and, well, managing Ben's schedule. Temporarily, even! That's easy for you."

Hux has already tried to be reasonable. The raise as well as relief from being Han's personal assistant is barely enough in compensation for the damages he knows Kylo will cause to his cortisol levels. However, he isn't willing to argue with Luke, and especially not Han-that man can trick any businessman into walking out of a negotiation paying twice the amount he was originally willing to.

Hux closes his eyes and succumbs to his fate as Kylo's P.A.

_I'm better than this_ , he thinks. _It can't be that bad._

*

For the first time in a long time, Hux is completely and utterly wrong.

Kylo refuses to do anything Hux asks him to. Hux reminds Kylo of his shoot with Balmain at nine, and Kylo promises to be fashionably late by an hour. Hux offers to drive Kylo across Sorbonne's campus tomorrow , and Kylo suddenly finds the will in him to walk two miles.

_I could tell him he's having his favorite food for dinner and I'd find him throwing it up in the toilet later_ , he thinks. _That boy's an overprivileged brat; how could he have great parents like Han and Luke and turn out like-_

Hux is splashing cold water over his tense, reddening face when the alarm on his phone goes off. Chimes echo through the acoustics of the large guest bathroom in Han's house, and Hux realizes-with a deep, deep dread sinking in his chest-that the time has come to drop Kylo, Han, and Luke off at Rose's Cafe. He doesn't mind the last two so much as the former, who has plagued every minute of his conscious since Han so ingeniously confined the two of them.

Hux straightens out his suit, readjusts his glasses, and heads out of the bathroom door. As he scales down the smooth wooden stairs, he sees Han twirling his keyring on his index finger. Han smiles up at Hux like he knows Kylo's given him a rough time and he's only amused by the fact.

"Ben and Luke are in the car," Han says. "They decided on being early birds today, getting in the BMW all early and whatnot. You're already influencing them!"

Hux quickens his pace, his shoes sliding across the floor. "I've worked for you and Luke for years. I'm not sure why that influence would only settle in now."

Han cocks his head to the side and laughs. "You know I was talking about Ben, Hux, don't play."

Hux lets out a polite chuckle.

"I never do."

*

Lunch at Rose's Cafe feels constricting, almost, like something is consistently being left unsaid, and Kylo is consistently struggling to find his breath. His parents are still in love, and he knows they love him, so Kylo can't understand _what_ exactly is causing the empty banter being passed across the table so recklessly. A few people pass by the window and spot Kylo from an ad they vaguely remember, but none of them are bold enough to interrupt. He's not a celebrity, and neither is his old man. Old men.

Maybe that's what's causing it all.

Han's halfway through a plate of french toast and Luke's untouched bacon strips when he opens his mouth, strong and proud, much like himself, to bring about a subject he knows Kylo would hate.

"How'd you like Hux?"

Luke's eyes expand and smile, although his mouth doesn't move, and he takes a sip of his orange juice. He says nothing and stares at Kylo like he's listening to his answer before he's even said it.

"He seems," Kylo pauses, "brash."

Luke takes the opportunity to laugh. "That's hardly how I'd describe him. He's a reserved guy. You must've done something to make him act out."

Kylo squares his jaw. "I did nothing!"

Han smirks and chews on a strawberry, elbowing Luke indiscreetly. Luke, in turn, laughs, and Kylo feels blood rushing to his ears.

"Why are we even talking about him? This is a _family_ lunch, and that man isn't family," Kylo says angrily. "I think you should fire him, dad."

"I can't fire Hux!" Han looks at Kylo with wide, disbelieving eyes. "He's the best thing to ever happen to this company! I don't think we could function without him."

"Hux doesn't run the company!" Kylo says, and Luke knows he's about to rant incessantly. "The company can't function without models or a CEO. And he's neither of those things! I know I've only just met him, but first impressions matter! He nearly broke into my room and started scolding me for re-scheduling that thing with the new talent, like he owns the place! I have a manager for a reason."

Kylo watches his parents for a reaction, but they both go silent. Han is smiling, of course, and Luke looks startled. They're both looking at something behind Kylo's head, and Kylo slowly realizes what they're staring at, but he refuses to turn around. He stiffens his neck and blinks his eyes closed, then back open again.

"I never meant to leave such a lasting impression on you, Mr. Solo," Hux says venomously, his voice booming behind Kylo's ears in the midst of the loud cafe. "I apologize."

Kylo tensefully runs his hands across his thighs, making a mental note to lock his bedroom door tonight.

It could very well be the night Hux reveals himself as an assassin.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The drive home is quiet and tense. Tourists and mundane citizens fly past the BMW, and Hux seems to bear little respect for the speed limit signs posted about. Han doesn't say anything- _for once_ , Luke thinks-and he stares out his window, licking the remnants of coffee cake from the back of his front teeth. Hux pulls into the driveway of the Solo estate, swiftly opening the parking garage with a remote in his pocket. He watches the door roll up, slowly, simultaneously tapping on the gas pedal. He alternates with the brake, moving and sliding up and down the drive way until Han lets out a frustrated breath. Luke watches Han's big mouth open, and his voice jumps out of his throat. 

  
"Maybe we should get a renovator to swing by and replace the garage door," Luke suggests.

  
The garage door finally opens. Han shakes his head and settles down in his seat while Luke glares at the back of his head.

  
"Hux, thank you," Luke says. "Han doesn't appreciate all that you do for us. He's just being a grumpy old man."

Hux starts to speak, but Han's voice erupts in the air before he can respond.

"Well, excuse me for being grumpy when I have my work to get to!" He's angry, although he's not quite yelling yet. "I have a company to run."

  
"Why don't you go run your company then?" Luke takes the initiative and raises his voice. "If you want to act like a grouch because you're missing your office, go ahead and go to your office. No one's stopping you. You clearly don't need or want anymore time to spend with your family."

  
Hux watches Kylo sink in his seat in his peripherals.

  
Han takes a sharp breath, as if to wince or sigh, and whispers a nearly inaudible "thank you" before rushing out of the car. Luke follows after giving Hux an apologetic pat on the arm, but Kylo remains planted in his seat. His eyes dart between the two of his fathers, who are both storming off in different directions, as if he doesn't know who to follow.

  
Hux watches him for a few seconds, just to see the emotions pass by his face. "Am I keeping you?"

  
Kylo looks at Hux, eyes wide and startled. "What?"

  
"Am I keeping you from getting out of the car?" Hux clarifies, "I don't want to upset you anymore, like I _own_ the place."

  
He sees Kylo's jaw tighten at the nod to his rant in the cafe.

  
"Actually, yes; you're keeping me from getting out of the car," Kylo says in a very restrained voice, "Because I want to apologize. I've never had a P.A. and it feels like my parents are being unnecessarily strict because they're fighting too often to realize I don't need an assistant."

Hux wants to ignore Kylo's sudden confession, but he feels his heart pull for the kid-which is weird enough, considering he's only three years his junior.

  
"Your parents love each other," Hux says without much thought. "I've worked for them for years, and I know all their fighting is the result of tough schedules."

  
Kylo nods. "I'm sorry."

  
Hux quirks an eyebrow, "You already apologized."

  
"I mean, about pouring out about that just now," he shrugs.

  
"That's what your personal assistant is for," Hux says. "I don't mind."

  
He does mind, however, he refuses to let his bosses' kid know that. It has always been a bit discomforting for Hux to channel his empathy, but Kylo smiles, genuinely, and Hux can't help but think the scowl Kylo wears all the time is out of place.

*

  
In spite of the sudden delay, the Balmain photoshoot runs slowly. Kylo poses with the new talent, Poe Dameron, for a good half hour after being benched on the sidelines, where he idly sipped water and struck up small conversations with Hux. Throughout the whole shoot, he's found himself enamored by the overwhelming physicality of the new talent. Poe's an average height, visibly shorter than Kylo's uncompromising stature, and his build is average, too. _He looks like a typical guy you'd find playing football in the park_ , Kylo thinks, _Or some guy you'd ask directions from because he looks like he's driven a pick-up truck everywhere._

  
A camera flashes.

  
"Great work, Kylo, but you've been giving the same face for the last ten shots," a photographer says, a clean-shaven smile on his pale face. "You're in love in this next one. Better yet, you're in lust."

  
"Yes!" Another photographer chimes in. "But with your clothes! Stick a thumb in your pocket!"

  
Hux rolls his eyes and crosses his right leg over the left, maintaining a straight back against the hard wall. He's been sitting around doing nothing for a good forty five minutes, just listening to the photographers suggest strange emotions for Kylo and Poe to channel.  _In lust with his clothes_ , Hux wants to laugh at the thought. _That's a new one._ He's just about to switch his legs over when he feels his phone vibrate against his pocket. He quickly glances down and fishes his phone out, watching Luke's caller ID flash on the screen. An intern watches him pull his phone up to his ear, and he mouths a quick apology before walking out the room.

  
"Yes, sir?" He answers, taking a quick glance over his shoulder at Kylo.

  
"Hey, Hux," Luke says warmly. "Just reminding you to discretely ask Ben what he wants for his birthday and birthday party."

  
Hux takes a sharp breath. He's forgotten all about Kylo's birthday in the midst of wasting his time away on a stupid bench. He doesn't want to leave the kid at the shoot alone anyway; he has no entourage outside of Hux.

  
"Of course," he manages to get out. "I'm on it."

  
Luke cackles, the sound bursting in the shell of Hux's ear, and he briefly pulls the phone speaker away to recover.

  
"Always so professional," Luke says, "You're always on it. Wonder why that didn't rub off on Han?"

  
Hux feels his shoulders tense up. "Han's very professional in his own way, I think. He's a great businessman."

  
Luke sighs. "I know. Give him my regards when you get back. Bye, Hux."

  
The line falls dead, and Hux thinks over Luke's words. He has seemed tired lately, although he somehow retains his personal sense of humor above all. _Han and Luke need to spend more time together_ , Hux brainstorms, _I'll plan a vacation for them._

  
The intern from earlier then taps Hux's shoulder, her thin-framed face adorned by a red flower now. She looks up at Hux with a tiny smile on her face and a cup of steaming coffee in her hands. She holds it like it's too hot, although her small hands are tightly wrapped around it.

  
"This shoot's been going on for a while," she says with a renewed level of confidence, "I thought you'd might need this."

  
Hux nods and accepts the coffee into his own hands.

  
The interns looks around them, as if trying to see that the coast is clear, and swiftly pats Hux's upper arm. She moves awkwardly and absentmindedly all at the same time, a performance proving uninteresting to Hux. He tries to move away quickly and head back into the main room, but she holds him back with idle conversation.

  
"So you're the only person from Kylo Ren's entourage," she says. "That's odd. He usually has more people with him."

  
Hux sips the coffee, his eyes darting to the distant photoshoot and back. "He has class a little after this, so I thought it'd be wise if less people came along."

  
"And by less, you mean one," the girl says lightheartedly.

  
"Well, if you're asking me who I am, I'm his personal assistant, Hux," he continues. "And the secretary of the Solo Modelling Company. In a way, I'm responsible for Kylo and Poe right now."

  
The girl nods. "I know you're not asking me who I am, but my name's Jessika Pava. I'm interning at Balmain, so in a way, I'm responsible for all the coffee runs."

  
Hux lets out a laugh, which surprises both him and the girl. He remembers his time as an intern, with a largely different company, but he knows that familliar feeling of uselessness.  
The two of them stand in silence for a while longer, listening to the faint sounds of cameras clicking and fans blowing.

  
Meanwhile, Kylo feels as if Poe has completely absorbed all of his attention, and the cameras' attention too, for the matter. He's so strikingly average, yet rugged at the same time; there's a beauty to him that Kylo hasn't yet encountered with any of his formr coworkers. Poe is the stranger on the train he can't stop looking at, and he is the unexpectedly gravitational cashier working the line.

  
"That was a great shot!" A particularly enthusiastic photographer shouts. "Kylo, you were looking at Poe with such a...je ne sais quois. It was beautiful! Let me get one more shot with you looking at the camera like that."

  
Poe lets out a startlingly loud laugh and smiles at Kylo charmingly.

  
"I just," Kylo begins, his voice feeling unsettlingly high-strung, "I was just spacing out."

  
"Over here, Kylo!" The photographer shouts again, and Kylo has no choice now.

  
This shot is the last, a storm of flashes and fake wind now coming to a shuddering halt. The photographers are conversing amongst each other now, comparing pictures and angles. Poe stands in place awkwardly, looking around for some kind of clue or direction.

  
Kylo leans over, realizing it's his turn to laugh, but it comes out a bit strange and intimidating. "We can leave now."

  
Poe raises his eyebrows and turns around to come face to face with Kylo. "They don't need us for anything else?"

  
Kylo shakes his head.

  
"Wow," Poe breathes, "What an easy job. Staring at cameras all day with good pay."

  
Kylo leads him off the set, back towards the bench he'd set his waterbottle down on earlier. Hux had disappeared, although Kylo thinks he'd spotted a familliar tuft of red hair by the outer hall.  
Poe sits down besides him, a bewildered smile still on his face. He's very tan, Kylo notices, recalling that his agent told him he was Guatemalan. His smile even seems prideful, like Central American campesinos Kylo learns about in his history class, and broad and brazen paintbrushes in his painting class.

  
"So what did you do before you got spotted?" Kylo asks.

  
Poe shrugs. "I was a mechanic in a deserted part of Texas-a rough area in Arlington. No one really came by the shop, but Mr. Solo did, and he asked me about modelling. The boys in the shop kind of laughed at me, but I liked the offer. I needed to make more money, and a fresh start in France didn't sound too bad."

  
Kylo blinks. He guesses Poe doesn't know about his relation to the infamous "Mr. Solo," but he isn't going to run the conversation sour now. He's invested in the story of rustic mechanic Poe, who lives in a rented house with a porch out front in Kylo's imagination, and he drinks gas station tea and sports grease on his muscular forearms every night.

  
"You're spacing out again, man," Poe laughs. "It's pretty early in the morning. I can ask somebody for some coffee."

  
Kylo laughs, only because it seems right, and looks around again for Hux. "No, my P.A. should be here somewhere. I think it's about time for me to head out."

  
Poe nods and gives him an awkward, half-off salute. "'Til next time."

  
Kylo smiles and walks away, his heart fluttering in his chest. He feels stupid for getting distracted by Poe's stupidly built arms, and his stupidly shiny teeth. He feels unprofessional and undeserving of his modelling status, and right as he turns a corner, he spots Hux in deep conversation with a girl.

  
The girl is speaking and moving in languid movements. Hux liberally sips from his cup of coffee while seemingly tuned in to the girls' story, and for no particular reason at all, Kylo feels the need to break it up.

  
"Class starts soon," Kylo says loudly, taking direction towards them.

A frown returns to Hux's face. "Your class. It seems you're forgetting that."

  
Kylo smiles at Hux's condemnation to life with him. "And it's your job to get me there. You're forgetting that, too."

  
The girl, who's been standing by awkwardly this whole time, finally racks up enough courage to speak up.

  
"That seemed pretty rude," she says quietly.

  
Kylo flashes his eyes at her, which seems to annoy her more than anything. Hux shakes his head, sighs, and waves a hand at the girl before heading off towards the front door. Kylo takes a deep breath and manages to hold in his laughter until they're outside.

  
"Should've seen the look on your face, Hux," he says in between breathless fits of laughter. "You were so mad that I embarrassed you in front of your new girl."

  
Hux walks down the pavement to the BMW, parked on the curb. "I wasn't embarassed. And she's not my 'new girl.'" 

  
Kylo arrives at the car and rests his head on the window of the passenger's seat. "Sure seemed like it. Good job, Hux."

  
In return, Hux rolls his eyes and jumps in the driver's seat. He turns the car on and tries to tune out Kylo's allegedly congratulatory speech.

  
"She seemed really into you," Kylo says while buckling his seatbelt. "Hope you got her number. Poe, that new talent, he's pretty cool, too."

  
Hux loosens his grip on the steering wheel. Poe, he wonders, Kylo must like Poe.

  
"He seemed like such an average guy-which is weird for a model in France, but he seemed like such a fresh start for the company's line-up," Kylo says, mostly thinking out loud to himself now. "The photographers thought I was looking at him too much. Those Balmain photographers don't know anything."

  
Hux feels a small smile curl up on his face.

  
He knows exactly who to invite to Kylo's birthday party now, and he feels like Luke would be proud.

  
"So," Hux glances in his sideview mirror, "What are you majoring in?"

  
He mentally reprimands himself for asking something so obviously out of place, but he knows he has to figure the boy out somehow.

  
Kylo cocks an eyebrow. "Art."

  
Hux is shocked. "Really?"

  
Kylo runs the palm of his right hand over his thigh and lets out a frustrated sigh. "Why's that so hard to believe? I like to paint."

  
Hux nods. "It's not hard to believe. It just seems uncharacteristic of you. I thought you might major in business like your father."

  
"My father didn't major in business," Kylo says quickly. "He's just street smart and managed to get a loan company to trust him."

  
"So he's lucky," Hux says, and Kylo lets out a quiet laugh. "But I meant as far as going into business."

  
Kylo shrugs. "I'm not all that interested in business. Art history and all that, though, I like. I've always loved going to museums and art galleries and-I'm rambling."

  
Hux nods again, "As you were when you were talking about Dameron. But I'm a good listener."

  
Kylo sits up, his mouth open wide. "I wasn't rambling about Dameron."

  
Hux pulls over by the front of Sorbonne's art building, "You even said you were looking at him too much."

"Um," Kylo starts, a small smile on his face, "I said the photographers said I was looking at him too much."

  
Hux gives him an incredulous look.

  
"Ok," Kylo laughs, pulling on his backpack, "I guess I'm not helping my case."

  
He turns to leave, his black hair flowing behind him in the wind, and Hux waves a hand.

  
"I'll pick you up after, Ben."

He immediately cringes at his own mistake and drives off, watching Kylo still and glance back at the car through his rear view mirror.

  
"Art," he reminds himself aloud, an attempt to distract him from his painfully awkward goodbye. "He likes art."

  
*

  
Most of the photographers and stagehands have left the building, save for a few interns still wandering around, just as clueless as Poe is. He gives the big room one last glance and heads towards the front hall. He passes by a few black and white and sepia shots posted up on the walls, male and female models alike providing smoldering looks at the cameras. He smiles to himself, wondering how he'd even ended up in a crowd like this one.

  
He finds his way to the main entrance and pushes open the heavy glass doors. He looks up at the sparse clouds in the sky, his retinas possibly burning at the sight of the sun, and he decides that it's high time he finds a place to eat. His agent had some kind of emergency that morning and encouraged Poe to get to know Paris in his absence. He walks aimlessly towards the street and catches a glimpse of a McDonald's a little ways down.

  
He manages to cross the seemingly never-ending stream of traffic with only a slight amount of unease. The old shop he worked at in the deep south of U.S. never had this much buzz in its small town; the only cars he'd seen racing down the street were that of his rare customers or new teenage drivers wanting to escape the heavy heat. He remembers seeing red topdowns every so often, hair and long shirts fluttering in the wind at sixty miles an hour.

  
_Paris is different_ , he thinks belatedly, entering the McDonald's with caution. The menu is in both French and English, much to his delight, and he quickly decides on a McDouble and some fries. As he orders at the register, he briefly considers a smoothie, but he treats himself to a fountain soda anyway.

  
His lunch goes down smoothly, although he begins to panic when his phone dies in his hands. He has to find a way to the subway now, get settled into his new apartment before the sun sets. He'd only been there once, and that was this morning when one of the modelling agency's body guards showed him his new place.

  
He makes his way down the street, taking a left and a right at vaguely familliar street corners, but he doesn't quite remember the way to the hotel. He reaches for his phone instinctively before realizing he's on his own.

  
He stops a few strangers passing by, making vivid hand gestures to describe the subway, although none of them speak English well enough to answer him. Frustrated, he leans against the side of a bookstore.

  
A broad man with dark brown eyes and an easy gait walks out of the store, a heavy textbook in his arms. He glances at Poe and changes course towards him.

  
" _Etes-vous bien, mec_?" He asks, his voice deep and concerned.

  
Poe blinks twice before answering. "I don't speak French. _Je ne parle pas_ , um, French."

  
The man lets out a thunderous laugh, resting his forearm against the stone wall of the shop. "It's okay, I speak English."

  
Poe throws his hands up. "Finally! I've been trying to find directions to the subway for an hour!"

  
"You're a little ways from the subway," the man says, looking across the street. "I can walk you down; I'm headed in that direction, actually."

  
"Thank you," Poe smiles.

  
They start down the sidewalk in silence before Poe decides to start a conversation.

  
"So what's your name?"

  
"FN-2187," the man says stoically. "I'm a robot built to work as a tour guide at the Louvre."

  
Poe immediately halts, his eyebrows knit as a bewildered look comes upon his face. "You know, I just remembered my friend was going to pick me up down by McDonald's-"

  
"Wait," the man says, breaking out into a small smile. "I was kidding."

  
"Oh," Poe says cautiously. "What a strange joke. Is that a European thing?"

  
"No," the man laughs, "I get nervous when I talk to strangers. Especially handsome ones."

  
Poe's eyes widen. He's taken aback by the stranger's straightforwardness and coexisting nervousness, wondering if his very first encounter with a cultural barrier is arising. Not that he isn't pleased, because Poe has definitely noticed the stranger's beauty, his dark eyes and clear skin, and the humble way he carries himself.

  
"I guess I really need your name then," Poe says as smoothly as possible. "Your real name, that is."

  
The man laughs. "It's Finn."

  
"Poe. Good to meet you, Finn."

  
*

  
"Mr. Hux, do you want some water?" The butler asks, a large pitcher of water in his gloved hands. His gray eyes are obscured by the glare on his glasses, his wrinkled smile lines resting by his thin lips.

  
Hux shakes his head politely. "No thank you."

  
The butler sets the pitcher down on the marbletop counter. "You just seem so stressed."

  
He eyes the piles paperwork set out in front of the ginger, pens and pencils and highlighters skewed across the counter. There's even a cheap, drug store calculator Hux is balancing on his thigh. He feels a gust of wind come from the open window and it knocks the small thing to the floor.

  
The butler makes a move to pick it up, but Hux stops him.

  
"It's fine. I think I need to take a break," he says, bending down to grab the plastic calculator himself. He realizes it had a particularly hard fall, as a few buttons have gone missing.

  
He joins the butler in a search for the missing negative sign as the front door opens. He hears a zipper and the sound of shoes clunking down on resistant tile. Hux's eyebrow twitches involuntarily and he's speaking before he even realizes it.

  
"That tile is expensive," he says loudly, "I better not see any scuffs on it from the clamor of you throwing your shoes down."

  
The butler stills.

  
"You won't see any scuffs from the clamor because that's not possible. Clamor refers to noise."

  
Hux recognizes Kylo's voice and lets out a heavy sigh. He gets up off the ground and peels off a string of lint from his suit jacket.

  
"I'm glad to hear that your remedial English class is working out fine," Hux nods, "You're home early, though. I was going to pick you up in an hour."

  
"The professor wasn't there," Kylo shrugs. "And I'm not in remedial English."

  
"Right," Hux concedes, choosing to pass up the opportunity to explain his attempt at a joke. "You should call me next time."

  
"I don't really need a ride from someone who calls me Ben," Kylo says, and Hux rolls his eyes.

  
_He's still on that?_ He thinks. _It was a mistake, and a casual one at that._

  
"I think you're being a little too overdramatic about that," Hux responds. He hears the butler scuttle off to the dining room behind him. "Do your professors call you Kylo?"

  
"Did your professors call you Brendol?" Kylo answers automatically, although his scowl fades just as quickly. He bites the inside of his lip nervously.

  
"How do you know my first name?" Hux asks, walking towards the model with intent.

  
Kylo remains silent.

  
"How do you know my name?" Hux repeats himself, his voice heavy and pressing.

  
"My father must have mentioned it a few times," Kylo blurts out. "I don't see why you're getting all hot and bothered about it."

  
Hux opens his mouth to say something, although nothing comes out as he watches Kylo ascend the staircase.

  
*

  
When Poe finally gets to his new apartment, and he wiggles his key into the lock, he finds that his new fancy manager is sitting on his couch and watching a soap opera on his TV. He's only met her twice before, briefly over Skype when he was still in Arlington and at the airport when he'd just landed in Paris. She's an old Japanese woman that wears round, thin-framed glasses and squints a lot when talking to Poe.

  
_What a strange lady, he thinks_ , taking hesitant steps inside of his apartment.

  
"You should take off your shoes," his manager-Maz Kanata, he remembers now-says.

  
Poe furrows his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, how did you get into my apartment?"

  
"Landlord let me in," Maz explains. "He thought I was your mom. I just came to speak to you."

  
Poe kicks off his shoes and tries to speak again, but all of a sudden Maz is standing up and walking over to him. She's quite short, although she still carries herself as though she's face to face with Poe.

  
"Nice apartment. I see that it came with furniture," she says plainly. "How was your shoot?"

  
"Oh," Poe stutters, "It was fine. The Kylo boy kept spacing out, though."

  
Maz shakes her head. "He is under bad management, bad discipline. His agent wanted you at first, and I fought to get you under my wing."

  
She steps closer and takes off her glasses. "You have the face of someone who works hard. You have the face of a common man-a beautiful common man. Nowadays, it's more important for people to see themselves reflected in fashion."

  
Poe nods. "I agree."

  
"So understand that this job won't be a breeze. You're representing people. Your first shoot went well?" Maz asks. "Then make your next shoot even better. I picked you because I believe in you."

  
Poe's nodding his head profusely now as Maz passes him by, heading towards the door.

  
"Oh, and one more thing," she says, glancing over her shoulder. "It is very possible to make friends in this business, and this city. Don't mistake kindness as a one-time thing."

  
Then the door slams shut, and Poe briefly thinks about Finn. He rushes his hand into his pocket. No paper, no napkin, no anything.

  
He forgot to get Finn's number.

  
He groans and collapses onto his couch.

  
*

  
After a few hours of peace and quiet, the butler wanders back into the kitchen. His gloves are stained a slight brown color, wrapped around a wrench and a can of oil. He gives Hux an empathetic look, giving the large stack of papers a once-over.

  
"I'm about to head out," Hux says quickly.

  
"Mr. Solo seems upset," the butler waves his wrench. "Ben, I mean. He took one of the cheaper cars on a drive earlier and ran over a large piece of glass, although I'm not sure whether he did that deliberately. He also ignored the oil pressure light."

  
Hux runs a hand through his hair, lightly pulling at the soft strands. He bites his inner lip again and again before taking a deep breath.

  
"That boy is going to be the death of me," he mutters before standing up and briskly exiting the kitchen.

  
He goes up the winding staircase and sees maids scurrying about, jumping into their work upon seeing Hux. He watches a few of them continue their whispered conversations while absentmindedly dusting the brass doorknobs. His inner lip soon begins to get sore, and so he recollects himself before knocking on Kylo's door.

  
At first, his knock is only met by silence. He waits a few extra moments, hears something run across the floor of the room, and knocks again.

  
"I'm just going to come in," he announces, barging into the room without another word.

  
Kylo's hidden by the translucent white curtains that hang by his balcony. His silhouette wavers behind them, his broad shoulders looming closer before suddenly moving away. Hux looks at the fluid movements of Kylo's shadow before finally taking a few steps forward. He only parts the curtain by an inch, although his eyes are met with Kylo's bare back. The boy's still wearing a pair of jeans, which Hux thanks God for, although the tip of his boxers hangs out.

  
The glass door has been pushed to the side. Hux finally decides it's time to speak up.

  
"I see it's my turn to apologize," he says. "I'll refrain from calling you by your first name, and you'll refrain from doing the same to me. I hope we can agree on that."

  
Kylo barks out a laugh, startling Hux. "You're so formal all the time. Do you ever loosen up?"

  
Hux feels his cheeks heat up, but he stays silent.

  
"But okay, I won't use your first name," Kylo says. "Brendol is a pretty uncommon name."

  
"It was my father's name, too," Hux answers far too quickly for his own taste. "I thought it'd be strange to go by his name."

  
Kylo nods, "I was named after this old guy who helped look after my dad, Luke, when he was growing up."

  
"It's a nice name, then," Hux says quietly.

  
Their conversation falls flat and Hux starts to feel like he's overstayed his welcome in Kylo's room. He pushed back the curtains completely just a few moments ago, exposing the balcony to himself and the empty room. Shadows curve down Kylo's back as he turns around, slowly, to look at Hux.

  
"You said you like to paint," Hux starts before Kylo can even get in a word. "Maybe you should paint the sky."

  
For a moment, he can see the faintest smile spark on Kylo's lips, but it's gone in an instant. Hux thinks the boy must be keeping his smile to himself these days.

  
"Be the next Van Gogh. I'll even cut your ear off for you," Hux adds, chastely spinning around and walking out of the room.

  
Kylo feels an emptiness swarm around him, like Hux had taken up space that never should've belonged to him. The thought takes form too fast and too well, and now it taints Kylo's mind with blue and gold and silver hues. I haven't painted in a while, he thinks.

  
 He takes a hesitant step back into his room and clambers to his bedside table, his hands fumbling through his drawers until he comes upon a pencil.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a whirlwind of a two months. I've studied for and taken the SAT, nearly quit an extracurricular... But I'm back. :) Hope you all like this chapter! (And, yes, Kylo does have a little crush.)


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